


You're Home with Your Own

by major_general



Category: West Side Story (1961)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 08:29:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2806094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/major_general/pseuds/major_general
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Riff and Tony, through the years and through others' eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Home with Your Own

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eurydice72](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eurydice72/gifts).



> eurydice72, Happy Yuletide!
> 
> You may have noticed that you have two fics. I wrote one and then looked back at your letter and realized I'd done what you expressly asked me not to do. So I wrote you another fic.
> 
> This is the one that has a different perspective in each section (which seems like your unwanted "head hopping" to me) and I understand if you don't read it. That's why I wrote you the other fic. I am proud of this one, which is why I still posted it.
> 
> Thanks to my beta, d!

 

 

 

 

 

They were two little boys. Just two little boys sitting on a curb on a warm May morning, watching a parade go by. If either had chosen another spot on the street to watch the parade, things wouldn’t have happened the way they did. But that’s the thing about stars when they get crossed—there never really is any other option.

 

* * *

 

 

Nora watched her boy who was completely unaware of the parade while he reveled in his new friend. He was that Golde’s boy, Anthony or something like that. He was a nice looking boy and didn’t seem to have trouble talking to Ricky like his mom and dad did. Golde’s husband didn’t speak a lick of English, but she got on alright and the boy had no trouble. They didn’t have much family. Golde didn’t really talk about it, but everyone knew that her brothers and parents hadn’t made it out of Poland. There was cruelty in the world and it didn’t hurt her boy to play with Golde’s, not when they were having such a good time of it.

She didn’t expect much to come of it, but Tony started coming round their apartment every other day, and the days he wasn’t with them, Ricky was over at Tony’s. When Nora started having trouble getting into work, Golde started bringing her Ricky in for meals. He ate dinner and lunch with Tony’s family and Nora was grateful. She tried not to be too proud to take the things she sent.

Then the doctor told her and she went to her brother. He was her only family and Ricky would have to go to him.

 

* * *

 

 

After a while, Ricky started coming around with bruises and he never wanted to go home. It would be a sin to send that boy back to his uncle’s so Golde let him stay about the apartment. It was good for Tony to have another boy about.

He came after school and stayed most weekends. He lived with them more than with that uncle and that was fine with Golde. She couldn't let a boy suffer, but with her husband still unable to pass the citizenship test, she couldn't do anything permanent. The boy had to go back to that uncle sometimes, and when he did, he'd come back in worse shape. If most of his things were here now, and sometimes became once a year, who was she to tell anyone.

As the years went on, Ricky got meaner. He'd have to. An orphan boy with a mean uncle needed to stand on his own, but Tony was always there. He went along with Ricky. Ricky might not have had a mother or a father but he had Tony.

It was good for the boys to have each other, but she was glad her Tony’d stayed mostly sweet. He was a good boy and he had a good future here in America. She just hoped Tony’d bring Ricky up rather than the other way round. You needed to be strong to survive in the world, but maybe not the kind of strong that the world was making Ricky.

 

* * *

 

 

The boys at second and shortstop were a matched pair and everyone knew it. You'd see one on the street and sure enough you turn around and there'd the other one be. The shortstop was never one to start a fight, but was sure to jump into any that the second baseman would start--and he seemed to always be starting a fight. They'd lose a game and he'd find the guy who scored the tying run. They'd win a game and he'd hold it over the other team's pitcher. Next thing you'd know, the pitcher'd be taking a swing at him and the shortstop'd be in there winning the fight for him. Everyone knew that the second baseman was trash, riffraff—everyone except that shortstop.

 

* * *

 

 

When Andy moved to another neighborhood, he knew he had to make a mark before he became one. The first day of school he put on his killer face and stared down everyone, but he was watching. He knew who the guy he had to beat was. He stormed over and, just as he was about to throw the first punch, another boy jumped in front of him.

"Hey you, new kid. Whatta you doing? You think you gonna start something with my boy here. That's not happening. See, we're in charge of this here school. We're powerful. We're like those bomber jets and you're like the scorched earth. You don't mess with us and you don't do anything unless I says you can. So if you're looking for action, you gotta ask me. Maybe I'll like you enough to let you pass. So what's you got to offer us?"

Andy reached into his pocket and pulled out the pack of cigarettes he'd swiped from his father that morning.

"Well that's a start, Action old pal," the boy said. "Tony, check out the tribute our new pal Action's brought us."

 

* * *

 

 

Bernardo was sick of seeing his friends picked on by those pigs. This country was supposed to be better than home. His parents had made him come here for a better future and all he could see was one where he and his friends were still broke because some punk took their money every week. He wasn't going to stand for that. They could get away with it because they had support, because they were a team, a gang. He needed that. He needed to make sure that his people were swifter, smarter, deadlier, so that no one would dare touch them. Those Jets would have to respect his people. They would make them. He'd get Chino and some others together and they'd be better than any group that that Riff and his Tony put together. After all, they were just two little boys and he and his crew were sharks.

 

* * *

 

 

If you asked Riff, there was no better person in the world than Tony. Ain’t no person that could compare with Tony. Not even Mickey Mantle. There was no one else you could want next to you in a fight. There was no one else you’d want around. As far as Riff was concerned, he saw his whole life going hand-in-hand with Tony. They’d rule the neighborhood and set up a dynasty.

They’d have apartments in the same building and their kids’d be like cousins. They’d have the most beautiful wives. And the rest of the world would treat them like kings. They’d hold court and it’d be swell. There’d be no one who could tell them what to do. No one would dare. Him and Tony, there’s nothing they couldn’t do if they did it together.


End file.
